


The Man in the Iron Mask

by MediocreGatsby



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Big Brothers, Brothers, Dubious Dumbledore, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Good Draco Malfoy, Good Severus Snape, Good Slytherins, Gryffindor Harry Potter, Harry Potter Has a Sibling, Hiding in Plain Sight, M/M, Polyjuice Potion, Protective Older Brothers, Ray Potter - Freeform, Ray Potter is a Slytherin, Secret Identity, Secrets, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slytherin Brother, Still Slytherins Though, Triwizard Tournament
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 16:39:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15344031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MediocreGatsby/pseuds/MediocreGatsby
Summary: After that fateful Halloween night, most in the wizardry world believes Harry Potter to be the sole survivor from when the Dark Lord invaded the Potters' home. Only a precious few know Ray Potter is still alive. Imagine Draco Malfoy's surprise at discovering Harry Potter's older brother has been hidden away.Merlin help anyone who tries to hurt Ray Potter's little brother. The protective young man is willing to play along with the Headmaster's plans as long as Harry remains safe, which has already been hard to ensure for years now. So imagine his fury when his baby brother's name comes out of the Goblet of Fire.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Broken Mind Fractured Soul](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8873683) by [Sensiblytainted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sensiblytainted/pseuds/Sensiblytainted). 



> I'm not saying that Supernatural has some influence over this, too, but I'm not denying it either.  
> Title from a movie about a king who hid his twin brother in a tower.

Three-year-old Ray Potter stood on the upstairs landing, torn between crying for his mother or running to his baby brother. He heard shouting from downstairs, and before he could make up his mind, his mother was on the landing and running toward him.

She swept him up in her arms and ran into his baby brother's room. Little one-year-old Harry who could scarcely say more than 'mama', 'dada', and 'bubba' stood in his crib, eyes wide, and bouncing.

Lily Evans sat Ray back on the floor then picked up Harry and handed him to Ray. "Take Harry and hide," she whispered fiercely. She kissed Ray hard on the forehead before doing the same to Harry. "Look after him."

Ray, who began to have silent tears running down his cheeks born from feeling his mother's unbelievable fear, nodded and half pulled, half carried Harry into the closet. Clutching his baby brother tightly to his chest, Ray listened as someone came into the room. He listened as his mother begged for her children's lives. He listened as his mother's cries died with her. He listened as the stranger carefully made his way around the room. Then he watched, horrified, as the hideous man pulled opened the closet door, smiled wickedly down at them, pointed his wand and said, " _Avada Kedavra._ "


	2. Thirteen Years Later

"Keep that big, bushy head down, Granger," Draco drawled after the Gryffindors.

"Come _on!_ " Granger insisted, yanking on Potter's and Weasley's sleeves while the other two looked daggers at Draco. They budged after another moment and allowed themselves to be pulled up the path, but not without Potter sending him one more glare.

Draco watched them go before turning back to look at the Death Eaters tormenting the muggle family, burning down tents in their path at the campsite of the World Cup.

That was the most of a warning those three were going to get from him, as far as Draco was concerned. He didn't think his father and his friends would actually do anything to Granger, and Weasley should be smart enough to get the mudblood away from the campsite.

Should be - probably wasn't. Hence why Draco even took the time to try to warn them anyway. In truth, he didn't much care what happened to them, but for all his casual and bored attitude, Draco was a bit disturbed by what was happening. He rarely saw his father that drunk, and if his own mother told him to get somewhere safe, he thought it warranted pause.

Sighing, Draco straightened from where he was leaning against a tree and made his way deeper into the forest. He wasn't in much of a hurry; he just needed to stay out of the way. He could find out later why this started in the first place if there was another reason besides alcohol. He knew that one muggle had a small part to play, getting on the wrong side of a few former Death Eaters by calling them weird and trying to get into their business.

Stupid muggle.

A snapping of a twig made Draco look up - and freeze.

Harry Potter, who was wearing a jacket with pyjamas along with Granger and Weasley just minutes before, now stood alone in front of him, in a pair of muggle trousers and a jumper, wand out and looking calmly but calculating at the Death Eater scene getting closer.

"Potter…" Draco addressed hesitantly.

Potter's eyes snapped to his, and he raised an eyebrow at Draco. Potter… didn't seem like Potter. He seemed the most unflustered Draco had _ever_ seen him and like for all the world that this was a common occurrence for him. Not at all how he just was.

When Potter didn't answer more than that eyebrow (which was far less sneering than Draco was used to seeing on the boy's face) Draco asked, "What, ditched them already? Don't want to get caught with a blood traitor and mudblood?"

At his words, Potter scowled ever so slightly but looked back toward the screams. After a few moments of ignoring Draco, Potter said quietly. "We got separated. I seemed to have gotten turned around." He gestured around himself as he looked back at Draco. "Which way did we run off before?"

Draco wanted to take a step back away from this even-tempered, unperturbed Potter. If he didn't know better, this wasn't _Potter_ Potter at all.

Suddenly, more screams pierced the air, and a green glow came from the opposite direction of the Death Eaters. Draco and Potter twirled around, and there hanging in the sky somewhere deeper in the forest was a green shadowy Dark Mark. _The_ Dark Mark. The one Draco's parents told him about - the one shot into the sky to mark death.

Draco felt his blood run cold. He looked back over to Potter a little panicky and was further taken aback by what he saw. Potter's shoulders had slumped, almost as though in disappointment, and he sighed, sounding tired and much older than he was. "Nevermind, I can guess," he mumbled and began walking away _toward_ the Dark Mark.

"Potter, what the -" he started, then stopped. It didn't matter. Let the weird- acting Potter go if he wanted. Draco needed to find his parents immediately and get out of there. There was no way he was sticking around, no matter how mysterious Potter was acting.

It wasn't until later the next night when he was back safely in his own bed at the Manor that Draco even thought about the encounter again. It hit him like a hex. That _wasn't_ Potter. Potter was, only minutes beforehand, in pyjamas with his friends, running frantically away from the campsite. The boy Draco met was wandering around the forest, observing the campsite and apparently looking for Potter &Co, and didn't seem the least bit surprised or bothered by what was happening. He also didn't seem surprised by the Dark Mark. If anything, it was like he was exhausted by it.

Not to mention, according to what he overheard his father telling his mother just before he went up to bed (and only then remembering the strange-Potter encounter), Potter was supposedly involved in the Dark Mark being there at all. A very reliable source told them that a house elf had stolen Potter's wand and used that to cast the Dark Mark with Potter just feet from it. A bunch of Ministry officials Apparated right to it as soon as it was cast, encircling Potter, Weasley, and Granger. Which just so happened to be at the exact moment Draco was yards away talking to Potter, who was holding his wand right there where Draco could see it plainly, and he was alone.

If Draco had to bet which Potter was the real one, it wouldn't be the calm one, alone and unafraid. It would have been the one in pyjamas with Granger and Weasley, having lost his wand to a bloody house elf and somehow found his way into trouble.

The thing was, Draco didn't get a threatening feeling from the other Potter. He seemed to dislike Draco's, albeit bigotry, vocabulary but otherwise was just a composed individual.

Draco wasn't blind nor stupid. Something had been going on for a few months now. Something was changing in the air. He didn't know what, but he was willing to bet that whoever the Potter impersonator was had something to do with it.

_____________________________

There were so many things that Draco Malfoy hated about Harry Potter.

For one, Potter seemed to get away with everything. He got special treatment left and right. Sure, so did Malfoy, but Potter didn't have to work for his. It always just fell in his lap; whereas, Draco had to use connections and networks for his.

For another, he thought it was ridiculous that Potter and Dumbledore actually expected everyone to believe the wild, crazy stories about him. Like an eleven-year-old really could face off the Dark Lord and live to tell about it. And a twelve-year-old finding the _Chamber of Secrets_ and killing the monster within? Give him a break.

Then there was the holier-than-thou attitude, hypocritically distrusting and disliking anyone who might possibly distrust or dislike someone he himself deemed worthy. Also, there was the complete lack of any discipline in his studies that he constantly cheated his way out of. His unwavering faith and loyalty toward people who, in Draco's opinion, didn't deserve it. The sheer nerve of him half the time, Draco swore.

Above all was how he would adamantly defend Slytherin as a whole but never individual Slytherins. Sometimes he would treat Draco like Draco wasn't worthy to be one. Who the hell did he think he was, anyway? Other than the sodding Boy Who Lived.

No matter his personal opinion, if someone was pretending to be Potter, it was either not good for Potter or not good for anyone opposing Potter. Admittedly, Draco was a bit torn. His father had been acting strangely for a while now – ever since the end of second year, if he was honest. As Draco got older, the less confidence he had in his father. Therefore, Draco didn't know what outcome he preferred.

Which only meant one thing: he needed to get involved in case the tides changed unfavourably.

To begin with, there were very few options. Draco couldn't be sure anyone else saw the pretend Potter that night. He couldn't go off spouting out ridiculous two Potter theories. That would only serve to get him noticed and have other people question his sanity. At the same time, he most likely wouldn't get anywhere if he just remained quiet about it.

The question wasn't so much of what he should say but to whom? If the Im-Pottstor, as it were, had nefarious goals, Draco would have most likely heard something about it via his own and his father's channels. If it wasn't nefarious, there was a likelihood Potter was involved. If he wasn't involved and had cause to look into it, Potter would undoubtedly handle it like a dog with a bone, and Draco merely needed to follow his trail.

If that didn't work, Granger would be the next logical step, get her obsessed with it.

After that, he would have to rethink things.

He decided to get a jump on things early while on the Hogwarts Express. The other Slytherins seemed consumed with ideas about the Triwizard Tournament, and usually, Draco would have been too. He probably would have grabbed Vincent and Greg and stalked Potter's compartment, taunt them a little. He knew Weasley had a brother working for the Ministry now alongside his father, so there was no way they didn't already know about the tournament as well. He was curious to know if any of the Gryffindors planned to enter. He knew already that there was going to be an age limit but getting them buffed up and all _I'll-show-you-Malfoy_ only to be let down seemed like good entertainment.

Draco, however, had spent the last little bit of their summer vacation becoming slowly obsessed with the Im-Pottstor, and that was currently more important to him than the Triwizard Tournament.

Alone, Draco tracked down Potter's compartment and paused just outside the slightly opened door to listen.

" - wouldn't buy tickets," the voice of Longbottom was saying. "It sounded amazing though."

"It was. Look at this, Neville," came Weasley's animated voice. Draco moved ever so slightly to peek inside.

"Oh, _wow_ ," Longbottom breathed as Weasley dumped a miniature toy Viktor Krum into his hand.

Draco smirked. So, they were already talking about the World Cup. Convenient.

"We saw him right up close, as well," Weasley continued. "We were in the Top Box -"

"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley," Draco said in greeting, sliding the compartment door all the way open and leaning against the frame.

There was more of an audience than Draco would have wanted. Potter, Weasley, Granger, Thomas, and Finnigan scowled at Malfoy, and Longbottom resolutely looked away.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," Potter said coldly.

Draco's smirk deepened, crossing his arms as though to get comfortable and opening his mouth around a retort. A hideous, lacy cuffed sleeve of an old, moldy pair of dress robes that were carelessly thrown over a cage of an owl caught his eye as it swayed with the motion of the train though. He clicked his mouth shut, tried (albeit not very hard) to repress a malicious grin, and cocked an eyebrow at Weasley who sat directly underneath it. Weasley looked up to see what had distracted Draco, then jump out of his seat with a quickly reddening face and hastily tried shoving the sleeve of that sin against fashion from view.

Draco cleared his throat, looking back at Potter with barely contained humour. "I am going to graciously let that go."

Potter scowled again. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Oh, I was just walking by, heard talk of the World Cup. Couldn't resist. It was a hell of game, didn't you think?"

Potter and Granger eyed him suspiciously as the others exchanged glances as though they didn't know what to make of him; Weasley was still trying to hide as much of the dress robes as possible.

"Where are your bodyguards?" Granger spat. "You didn't have them with you at the World Cup either."

Draco lifted one shoulder up in a shrug, knowing she was talking about Vincent and Greg. He took the segue though. "I see you made it out alright," he said to her. "Bit of a nasty after party, wasn't it? I heard you were right there when the Dark Mark was cast. Must have been terrifying, what with one of _your_ bodyguards gone."

Potter, Weasley, and Granger frowned while Finnigan looked like he was ready to jump up and hex Draco if need be.

"What are you talking about?" Granger asked.

"Just that it must of have been scary for you, that happening with the Boy Who Lived nowhere around."

"What are you on about, Malfoy?" Weasley growled as he sat back down. "Harry was with us!"

"Oh?" Draco mocked surprised then pointedly stared at Potter. "Hm. Then I wonder who the hell I was talking to."

Potter, Weasley, and Granger visibly paled as the other exchanged confused glances.

"Stop talking in riddles, Malfoy, or get out," Granger said carefully.

Draco smirked. He got what he came for - Potter obviously knew exactly what he was talking about, and by the looks of it, he wasn't the only one. Fun. "Riddle me this, Potter: If it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, but doesn't act like a duck, how long will it be before the other ducks notice?"

Potter was on his feet in an instant, wand drawn and pointed evenly at Draco. "Riddle _me_ this, Malfoy: if it looks like a git, talks like a git, and acts like a git, how long will it be before its hexed twelve ways to Sunday?"

Draco lifted his hands in mock surrender but made sure to sharpen his gaze where his eyes bored into Potter's to let him know he wasn't actually intimidated. He decided to give Potter an out. "My apologies. I was obviously mistaken - not that you can blame me. After all, if you lend house elves your wand, why wouldn't you lend some unfortunate soul your ugly mug."

Both Weasley and Finnigan jumped up at that, but Draco had already pushed off the door and stepped back out into the hall, satisfied with leaving a pale and slightly anxious looking Potter behind. The others probably would think Draco merely took a long, annoying route to insult Potter, most likely a stupid explanation given by their friends, but Potter knew the truth. If Potter didn't know exactly what Draco was talking about, he wouldn't have gotten nearly that defensive that quickly. Which meant he was either defensive of whatever plot he had going or defensive of his look-a-like.

Interesting, Draco thought as he made his way back to his friends. If nothing else, he just got confirmation of what he saw and knew for sure he was not barmy and hallucinating extra Potters. It also gave him a couple of leads. He would have to watch Potter more carefully now, see if Im-Pottstor ever takes his place. As far as he knew, only Polyjuice could be that convincing, but he would look up if there were other ways to accomplish an exact look-a-like. He also needed to coyly look into how the events at the campsite got started, see if there were any clues into why Im-Pottstor would have been there in the first place.

___________________________

It was three weeks into term before Draco got any headway on the Im-Pottstor problem.

He had looked exhaustively into the night of the World Cup, and unless Potter had some other kind of two-Potter plan going on that Draco couldn't find any hide nor hair about, the incident started with firewhiskey and ended in rebellious house elves.

Potter watched Draco suspiciously for over a week after their initial conversation on the train. Draco didn't let on that he knew anything else, and eventually, Potter seemed to accept that. Probably convinced himself that Draco didn't actually know anything and that he was just being paranoid, if Draco knew Potter at all.

Toward the end of September, as Draco was starting to become more interested in the upcoming Triwizard Tournament than the mysterious Im-Pottstor, the Im-Pottstor showed his face again. Draco would have missed it if it wasn't slowly becoming habit to study Potter for a few minutes every morning to see if he acted like _Potter_ Potter or that World Cup Potter 2.0.

That morning, Potter entered the Great Hall a few minutes after his friends, which wasn't that unusual. His walk, however, was a little off. It was much more graceful and confident than Potter's stomp-and-slouch. He ate much like Potter normally did, but the few times his friends tried to engage him into an actual conversation, Potter would give them odd looks and answer shortly - to which they would give him odd looks back until Weasley and Granger basically made themselves shields between them. Soon after, he left the Great Hall with them in tow, clearly not really caring if any of his fellow Gryffindors were with him or what they thought.

No way. There was no way that was Potter, Draco was sure of it.

Draco watched him throughout Defence Against the Dark Arts, and instead of his usual apt attention, Potter seemed quite bored. In Herbology, Sprout praised Potter with the ease he handled that day's plants which raised several eyebrows, but it wasn't until Potions that Draco felt like his intuitions were proven correct.

When Potter walked in, Draco watched as he gave Snape a defiant little smirk, and Snape replied with a resigned but disapproving glare. The glare wasn't filled with any of the usual hatred and disgust he normally saw the Potions Master give the boy. It was like the two of them had a completely different association with one another.

If Draco wanted to find out more, he was going to have to get closer.

Taking advantage of Im-Pottstor not sticking close to Potter's friends, Draco scurried forward and claimed the seat next to him. Im-Pottstor turned his head to see who had joined him, and a flash of recognition streaked across his face. It smoothed out into expressionless quickly, though, and Im-Pottstor merely turned to face the front again.

"Afternoon… _Potter_ ," Draco greeted.

Im-Pottstor hummed acknowledgment in response.

"Glad to see you made it out of that forest at the World Cup."

There was a beat of silence, then Im-Pottstor said, "Wish I could say the same."

Draco ignored the insult.

"Where is Potter today, anyway?" he asked, deciding to jump right in. Either he really was right and could throw Im-Pottstor off, or he was wrong and would only serve to confuse Potter.

Without missing a beat, as though unsurprised and unbothered by the question, Im-Pottstor said, "Talking to an idiot."

Draco had to stop himself from scowling. "I hope you're taking good notes for him. He probably won't have any trouble in DADA, but he's abysmal at Potions."

Another beat of silence, then Im-Pottstor slowly turned to look at Draco, eyes burning with an emotion Draco didn't think he had ever seen on that face before. "I don't think my note taking skills are any of your business, and I don't feel like playing your let's-talk-in-third-person game. So, if you could kindly fuck off."

The swear word was unfamiliar in Potter's voice and was doing nothing to deter Draco from thinking this was someone else wearing Potter's appearance. Lowering his voice, Draco whispered. "Third person, my arse. You aren't Harry Potter, just someone pretending to be him."

Im-Pottstor's eyes flashed again. He also lowered his voice, leaned a bit forward and spoke through gritted teeth. "I don't know what you think you know, but I suggest you un-know it."

"Is there a problem?" came Snape's low and drawn-out voice from beside them.

Draco and Im-Pottstor glared at one another for a moment before Im-Pottstor quirked a brow and said, clearly to Draco, "Is there?"

Draco clenched his jaw, not backing away from the challenge but also not ready to play his hand. "No, Professor Snape. _Potter_ and I were just discussing Charms."

"Five points from Gryffindor," Snape announced. "And a warning to you, Potter, that you stick to Potions when in my Potions lab."

"Yes, sir," Im-Pottstor said readily, still glaring at Draco.

"Perhaps you both would be more productive if I separate you two," Snape continued, causing Draco to finally break away from the boy's intense eyes and stare incredulously at Snape.

"Yes, sir," Im-Pottstor said again, a smirk ghosting his lips. He gathered his things, gave Draco one last challenging glance, then moved to sit in the back next to Longbottom.

Fair enough, Draco thought. The day was far from over.

Unfortunately, though the day was far from over, his window to interrogate Im-Pottstor was gone. As soon as Potions was over, Im-Pottstor was out the door before anyone. He wasn't at dinner either, and Draco couldn't find him in the library or anywhere else. It grated his nerves because he knew he was being avoided and didn't like it. He was on to something. Im-Pottstor had practically goaded him. Draco was itching to talk about it, but who would believe him? He thought about asking Snape, who seemed most likely to know who Im-Pottstor was, but ultimately deciding against it, not wanting to burn that bridge just yet.

The next morning, Draco eagerly awaited for Im-Pottstor, but to his immense disappointment, it was undoubtedly _Potter_ who walked into the Great Hall. He looked like crap, too, like he had gone twelve rounds with a dementor. His friends were fussing around him, clearly worried, and Draco watched in annoyance and curiosity as Potter smiled reassuringly at them and preened under the attention.

So. Perhaps Potter was sick, or busy fighting Dark Lords or giant snakes or something and had someone else cover for him. That seemed like a plausible enough idea over any.

The problem was, whoever covered for him wasn't any of the students they knew. They were all present yesterday - Draco made sure to double check. The only students not accounted for at any given period during the day were a handful of first years over accidents, a sixth year Hufflepuff sent to the Hospital Wing by a third year Slytherin, and a Ravenclaw Chaser injured during practice. Their time was all accounted for by Madam Pomfrey.

No one except for Potter himself was unaccounted for the entire day, not even staff members. So, who was Im-Pottstor, and why did Potter need to take such measures?

____________________________________

"Werewolf," Blaise said confidently.

After a whole other month of watching Potter closely, Draco had finally broken down and told his suspicions to the two people he thought he could trust most: Blaise Zabini and Millicent Bulstrode. There had only been two other times Draco thought he might have seen Im-Pottstor, once during a random Sunday afternoon watching him, Weasley and Granger return from Hagrid's hovel, and during a Transfiguration class where he swore Im-Pottstor and McGonagall were teasing each other the entire time.

The whole reason he trusted Blaise and Millicent with his wild theories was because he knew they wouldn't take him seriously but would jump on the chance to entertain themselves by humouring him.

"Make sense," Millicent said to Blaise's guess, nodding her head and smirking. "He got really close with Lupin last year. Could've turned him."

Draco shook his head as he considered. However much they didn't take this seriously, Draco was and was allowing for whatever theories there could be. "If it's so easy to hide a thing like that via Polyjuice, Lupin would have done it. Besides, I didn't see the fake-Potter on full moons. I don't think any of the occurrences were."

"Vampire," Blaise said just as confidently as before.

"Make sense," Millicent said same as before. "People might get too close to the truth now and again, so they have a replacement come in to reassurance everyone he's human."

"Right, because he enjoys the pain of the sun and eating human food for the fun of it without anyone noticing," Draco grumbled.

"Secretly works for the Department of Mysteries," Blaise continued.

"Makes sense," Millicent played her role. "He's the only person to ever survive the Killing Curse, so the department might run tests on him if not all-out use him."

Draco groaned and flopped down from his pacing into his chair that was pressed against a corner of the Slytherin common room. "I hate that that might actually make sense."

"So, are we done yet?" Blaise yawned. "The other schools are coming tomorrow, mate. I need to test my new hair potion before they get here."

Millicent stretched like a satisfied cat. "Department of Mysteries it is, then. I'll spread the news."

Draco chuckled.

That was another reason why he trusted his theories to them. They, of course, would tell, but they would do it only in a way to entertain themselves and never implicate Draco. Usually, they took their favourite theories and fed it to the first years just to exasperate Potter when confronted.

Unknown to Draco, this time, a wild rumour that Harry Potter was periodically replaced by some mystery person via Polyjuice because the Department of Mysteries probed him frequently like an alien did not pass by as a harmless laughable nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos if you're liking this, and please review! I adore comments and would love to know what you think.


	3. A Day in the Life

Ray was furious at himself. Harry had been telling him about Malfoy for years, and damn it all if his little brother wasn't right. Malfoy had a way of needling others, apparently, getting them to rise to some unspoken challenge. He was also angry at himself for trying to handle the knob like a Gryffindor.

It was just habit at this point. The most directly confrontational Ray ever was, was when it came to his little brother. Gryffindor - Slytherin - Huffleclaw - whatever Joe Bloggs around, when it came to Harry, Ray wasn't going to back down. It was up-front, in-their-face, defuse or annihilate the threat. Always had been, always would be.

He couldn't give two fucks about the bloke at the World Cup, though he did note the guy in his head like he always did when he ran into someone if he was costuming as his brother. In Potions, though, the smug git just got under his skin with how sure he was. Harry was in a panic after whatever confrontation on the train he and Malfoy had, and Ray was already on edge because of Harry and his dreams anyway. At that moment, he thought the best course of action was to subtly threaten the bloke directly.

That was his problem, though. He could do subtle. He couldn't do… unsubtly subtle.

Ray slowly let out a long but quiet breath of air, eyes closed tight, willing himself to relax.

"I don't know whether to be worried or disappointed," his mentor and Head of House Severus Snape drawled.

"Try both. You're hardly one-dimensional," Ray replied flatly without opening his eyes.

"Mr. Malfoy becoming suspicious would hardly be the first time someone thought something was off. This is, however, the first time you didn't delicately and effectively soothe them or found another solution."

Ray let out a slight growl and finally opened his tired eyes to look Snape dead on. "I know. I completely agree."

Snape looked like he didn't know what to do with that.

"Look, I didn't mean to antagonise anyone."

"Then what were you thinking?"

"I was thinking this is the git who's made my brother miserable for years."

"No," Snape scowled at him. "If that was what you were thinking, you would have cornered Malfoy into humiliating himself."

Ray waved a hand, conceding. "Fine. I wasn't thinking at all. Are you happy?"

"Oh yes," Snape raised an eyebrow, "I'm always thrilled when my charges stop thinking."

Ray resisted the urge to cross his arms and just took another breath. Snape sighed, stood from behind his desk, and poured them both a drink. It was rare for Snape, but it just showed how much his mentor really did understand how stressed Ray had been lately.

"How are the nightmares?" Snape asked in a tired voice.

"The same," Ray answered, taking the offered drink. "Sirius and Remus are adamant that we shouldn't worry and that what happened over the summer was just a dream, but I've dealt with Harry's nightmares before, Severus."

Snape nodded, letting the slip of his given name go. Snape and Ray have worked together for six years, Snape playing probably the only responsible parental role in his and Harry's life. It had just become natural to call him Severus when they worked on problems like this, as equals.

"I agree," Snape said. "From what you've told me, however hesitant I am to admit it, it sounds like a vision."

"Do you think either Remus or Sirius has told Dumbledore by now?"

Snape shook his head. "If they did, Dumbledore would have told me. For now, I agree it's best to keep this quiet."

Ray narrowed his eyes. "I know why _I_ want to keep this quiet. Why do you?"

"We both can only guess why the Headmaster has been so determined to keep you a secret all these long years, and I really don't think Harry having visions instead of you is something he expects."

"Ah," Ray sighed before draining his glass. "You're thinking it would have the same reaction as when he learned Harry could speak Parseltongue and not me."

"Precisely."

Ray gently sat his empty glass down on Snape's desk when he really just wanted to throw it across the room. He also resisted the urge to rub his face and swear. "Do we have any news on Bertha Jorkins?"

Snape shook his head solemnly. He too finished his glass and then sat up a little straighter. "Remind me again the mention of her."

"That Tom killed her, obviously. That Wormtail brought her to him, and that Tom questioned her. Harry mentioned Wormtail didn't seem to like that they killed her and had suggested they could have used a memory charm instead. Tom told him memory charms could be broken, as he had proven when he questioned her. Whatever information she gave, whatever behind those charms, it was vital and key to whatever they are planning."

"And we're positive it had nothing to do with the World Cup?"

Ray shrugged. "Harry isn't sure, but on the night he had the dream, I remember him saying specifically that Tom at one point told Wormtail they were going to wait until _after_ the World Cup. That the event was causing too much security around England."

"Suggesting that they are now in England," Snape drawled with the air of having gone over this a hundred times - which was appropriate considering they basically had.

"Bertha would have known about the World Cup, but she always would have known about the Triwizard Tournament," Ray said leadingly.

"Harry is way too young to enter that, as you well know," Snape dismissed. "It would have to be something surrounding the tournament."

Then, for the millionth time, Ray said, "What worries me is that Wormtail said whatever they were planning would work with any wizard, that they didn't specifically need Harry. Tom just wants Harry."

Snape stood, clearly thinking that if they had circled back around to this, the conversation was over. "We'll keep our eyes open tomorrow when the other schools arrive. I've already warned you about Karkaroff, and though I wouldn't think him a threat, you never know."

Ray stood as well. "Tom said his most _faithful_ servant was helping them. Does that really sound like Karkaroff?"

"I wouldn't think so, but stranger things have happened," Snape answered wearily. "Don't antagonise Malfoy or give him any more reason to be suspicious, wait a while before you two try swapping again, and stick to the shadows. Preferably, stick to your tower."

Ray rolled his eyes. "And what, if I see a cute Prince, I shouldn't let down my long hair?"

Snape smirked, opening the door for him, but didn't answer.

Ray carefully and silently walked the familiar dungeons until he got to a shadowed alcove by a suit of arms. He gently rested his hand on the stone, activating the secret door, then as he started to climb the tight, spiral steps, he finally let some of his calm demeanour slip. He ran a hand through his curly locks, showing some of his frustrations, but then as he took one secret hallway, then another, then up another tight set of stairs, he forced himself to think of Transfigurations. Because he knew his brother would be waiting up for him, and he didn't want to return looking tired and worried.

Sure enough, when Ray entered his small tower's commons, there was Harry, curled up on the couch by the fire, a book in his lap. He didn't hear Ray come in, so Ray took a moment to grin at his baby bro. Then he scowled when he noticed Harry's trousers were already becoming too short. Harry was growing faster than Ray could keep up with, and he made a mental note to send out for new uniforms again first thing in the morning.

"Greetings, Gryffindork."

Harry looked up and grinned. "Evening, Skiverin."

"You staying with me tonight?"

"Nah," Harry shut his book and stretched. "Just wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"Last time I checked, I'm the big brother. That's my job," Ray smirked, passing Harry and climbing the twisted, short five steps into a small, narrow kitchen with counters on both walls. Harry followed him. "Everything's fine, brother mine."

"What did Snape want?"

"Well," Ray sighed, filling a water glass, "something… might've happened a few weeks ago."

Harry frowned and crossed his arms. "What do you mean?"

Gulping down his water to give himself some time because he knew how this was going to go over, Ray carefully tried to choose his words. "First, understand, I simply forgot to tell you after a while, and I didn't tell you immediately because you had such a bad night with those dreams, and I didn't want to worry you while you have much, much, _much_ more important things on your mind."

"You mean you didn't tell me in case it blew over, and I would never have had to know."

Ray scoffed, "I would never!"

Harry merely raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, fine, bang to rights, but I know how you can get about that prat, Harry." Ray sat the glass in the sink and slipped his hands in his pockets, leaning against the counter. Harry came up to lean against the counter across from him.

"Which prat?"

"Y'know, the one with the hair."

Harry frowned for another moment, then his eyes went wide momentarily. "Malfoy?"

"It was nothing, really," Ray tried.

"Ray! What happened?"

Ray rolled his eyes. "Alright, look, he sat beside me in your Potions class, which by the way, I saw that essay, Harry. I told you to study about bloodroots before moving on to -"

"Ray," Harry said warningly.

"Okay, fine, listen. He sat beside me and started talking like he knew I wasn't you, y'know, asking where you were, things like that. I tried to brush him off, but then the gormless tosser decided to grow a pair and told me outright that he knew I wasn't you."

Harry went a little pale.

"Relax, brother mine. It's not like he actually knows, nor can he prove anything."

"Yet," Harry threw out his arms. "What did you say? How did you handle that?"

"Well, see, this is where I actually should apologise."

Harry scowled.

Ray waved a hand dismissively. "I might've slightly threatened him. It's was nothing, really."

"What. Did. You. Say."

"I just said that whatever he thinks he knows… he should un-know it."

"Ray!" Harry exclaimed. "That's as good as wearing a nametag that says 'I'm not Harry Potter'! What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't, clearly," Ray argued back. "Look, I already established that with Snape. It'll blow over, Harry, like every other time someone comes sniffing around."

"This is Malfoy, Ray! He's not going to let it go."

"Codswallop. The worse he can do is spread rumours, and a rumour that you secretly have a double is barmy, and you know it. No one will believe it."

Harry snorted. "The younger kids do. They believe all the rumours. Drawing any attention to you is bad, Ray."

"You don't think I know that," Ray snapped, pushing off the counter and stomping back to the commons.

"It's worse that it's Malfoy, Ray," Harry pressed. "His father's a Death Eater - a part of Voldemort's inner circle. Do you have any idea what would happen if they find out you're alive?"

"No," Ray spat, "do you? No, you don't. None of us do, and besides, they aren't going to find out. Malfoy's small potatoes, Harry. We have so much more important things to worry about."

"Er, I think Malfoy should be pretty high on that list," Harry insisted, looking very worried.

The concern in his brother's eyes made Ray sag a little. He came up to his brother and put a hand on each shoulder. "If this bloke turns out to be a threat in any way, I will handle it, Harry. Just like I always have. Eh? Come on, when have I ever let you down?"

Harry's lips twitched, and he shifted, knocking Ray's hands away. "You've never let me down," he mumbled.

"Exactly, and I'm not starting now. Okay? It'll be fine, you'll see."

"Okay… but I'm still going to watch Malfoy. I don't trust him."

"Wait, you don’t? Huh, that's surprising. I had no idea…" The last word was said with a laugh as Harry started swatting at him.

They visited for a little longer, Ray asking about his classes and making sure Harry had everything he needed. He ruffled the kid's hair before Harry slipped under their Invisibility Cloak and ducked out of the tower. He would return sometime the next day to give it to Ray so that Ray could stand off to the side and watch the two other schools arrive. Knowing that made him smile a little because Harry always tried so hard to find a way Ray could enjoy festivities too. He wasn't sure if he would, though. He didn't trust Mad-Eye Moody's magical eye.

Ray walked his tower, straightening up some, but mostly letting his mind finally relax for the day.

The tower was small, most likely originally a teacher's quarters or something. There were several secret passageways in, all leading to the common room, which was decent in size. On one side by the bookshelves was a long, sturdy table he could often find his brother and brother's friends using around exam time. Usually, that table was used for Sunday afternoon lunches with their little makeshift family that they had.

The other side of the room was much cosier with mismatching sofas and armchairs, cream coloured curtains, and a big fireplace that was still connected to several Floo networks. A Slytherin banner hung above it, just for a touch of House pride. To the right was a door leading to three steps and another door, which opened into his bedroom. To the left were the five, twisted steps that led to the kitchen, and off the kitchen were two more steps up to another door that also led to his bedroom. Ray found the entire space quirky and always had. It was a nice sanctuary where he could be himself.

Exhausted, Ray eventually made his way into the bedroom's adjoined loo. He changed quickly then paused to look at his reflection.

Ray had the same skin tone as their father and Harry, though Harry was slightly lighter. He also had the same seemingly unmanageable black hair, but his was a bit curly. The curls and the right haircut made it more of a stylish mess. He knew from pictures that he got his father's hazel eyes, his mother's mouth and high cheekbones, and, according to Snape, most of her expressions and gestures. He was tall, coming to about five foot eleven inches, but he also had no idea if he still had a little more to grow or not. He had a feeling Harry was going to give him a run for his money.

The most telling about his appearance, however, were the lightning scars. They were white and looked like real lightning, stretching out from his hair across the left side of his throat and back of his neck. A few of them stretched across his left jaw slightly and moved toward the front of his throat, but the majority, he knew, were on his scalp covered by hair. The Killing Curse all those years ago hit him right in the head from where he was trying to shield Harry, and luckily, all Harry got was a single lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. He had been told several times that when he would hug Harry a certain way, their scars align, making it clear that Harry's lightning bolt scar was the tail end of one of Ray's.

He knew this was still true because whenever McGonagall was being difficult, he would find some reason to hug Harry that way because the woman always melted when she saw it. He got the scars trying to save the kid's life, after all, so he thought he might as well use the kid to get his way every now and then.

He didn't mind the way he looked, not even the scars, but what he didn't like right then was how tired his reflection was.

Sincerely hoping to sleep through the night, Ray crawled into bed, and though he did get his wish of full night's rest, his dreams were full of dread and troubles.

Thanks to the dementors the year before, Ray could now remember clearly his mother's last words to him. He didn't think he ever really forgot them. Looking after Harry had been his job since the moment that bastard pointed his wand at them, and every day he prayed he was doing his parents proud.

Especially since looking after Harry was no easy feat.

The Dursleys were atrocious, vile, pathetic excuses for people. Ray didn't care how they treated him, he refused to let them treat Harry badly. That was why Ray grew up cunning. He found ways to manipulate his younger cousin, and by extension, his aunt and uncle. Dudley was the biggest plonker that had ever plonked, so it wasn't that hard to get him involved in something that got his family off their backs. What was hard was making sure Harry was healthy and happy. Ray used to sneak out a night, nick his cousin's bike, and go into town. He would steal food from all-hour markets, sometimes collected coins from phonebooths or random vending machines, and once he found a way to steal a portable cooler, was able to keep food in their cupboard for Harry. He got caught stealing a few times, but he was always able to weasel out of trouble - and most importantly, not have the Dursleys find out.

He stole all their clothes as well. That was actually pretty easy. He would bring with him just a small pair of scissors, cut the security tags, and wear the clothes out of the shop underneath the ones he came in with. He didn't mind wearing Dudley's old hand-me-downs (even though he was older, they were still way too big), but Harry and Dudley were in the same year. It was hard enough for Harry to make friends due to the other kids being scared of Dudley, he didn't want his brother to be further isolated by appearance. And he loved his kid brother, he did, but Dudley's clothes on him were not flattering.

When it turned out Harry was going to need glasses, Ray went as far as mugging a few people. The Dursleys refused to pay for a decent pair of glasses and told him that if he wanted Harry to have another, he would have to come up with the money himself. So, he did. For a few years, the papers called him the summer-time-mugger because once a year he would collect as much as he could and take Harry back to the eye doctor for check-ups. Now, they had Madam Pomfrey to keep them healthy for free, so he hadn't done it in a while.

Harry, of course, didn't know about the robberies and had no idea that Ray used to nick a knife from Aunt Petunia's kitchen and held it at perfectly innocent people's throats to mug them.

 But no matter what, that had always been Ray's focus: Harry. He would take the brunt of abuse from their so-called family, then schemed and plotted next moves while helping Harry with his homework. Sometimes even now he could sense his brother feeling tremendous guilt, but Ray would never hear it. He would tease sometimes, sure, that was what brothers did, but just the idea of how Harry's childhood would have been like had the Dursley gotten their way made him feel ill. He refused to let Harry feel any kind of guilt over that.

Ray was trying his best to give Harry a happy, good childhood, and he sincerely hoped he was succeeding.

If only everyone would stop trying to kill him.

When Ray received his Hogwarts letter, he was shocked. He genuinely thought it must have been a prank, but Harry was insistent that it wasn't. Harry was so excited, demanded Ray write back, and together they went to the post office to try to mail it. They got laughed out of the post office, of course, but it satisfied Harry's curiosity.

The last thing Ray expected was then for a white-bearded old man to show up at their door.

Hogwarts was real, and so was magic, but Ray refused to leave Harry. So, at first, Ray thought them keeping the brothers isolated was because technically Harry was too young to be at Hogwarts. He learned quickly, though, that he was being kept hidden.

By the end of his first year, Snape had told him the truth. He wasn't getting private lessons because he was special, he was getting private lessons because he wasn't supposed to be alive. He explained that somehow - gee, wonder how - it got around the wizardry world that Harry was the only survivor that awful night. It was the belief of Dumbledore that Tom Riddle would one day return, and while Harry could be a symbol for the wizardry world, Ray had to remain a secret. He learned to not ask why, though Snape did let slip that him being sorted Slytherin seemed to have had made up the Headmaster's mind.

Over the years, Snape warmed to Ray, becoming a sharp contradiction to the hateful, almost cruel man he originally met. He listened to Ray's suspicions, gave them validation, and was a good sympathiser when Ray needed one.

He also didn't hesitate to let Ray know what he thought about Ray's habit of obsessing over Harry's care.

Harry's first year, Ray's third, Harry finally was able to really get out and explore the castle. Then the damn twit had to go and get obsessed with what the school was hiding even though Ray kept telling the kid it was none of their damn business.

It quickly became their business though when Harry had to serve out a detention within the Forbidden Forest. Ray forced Harry to stay overnight the infirmary to make sure he was alright, then he switched to protector-mode so fast, Snape still claimed to that day it gave him whiplash. Ray stormed into the Headmaster's office and really let him have it. It was hardly the kerfuffle Dumbledore tried to make it out to be. Ray couldn't believe the Headmaster would allow eleven-year-olds to serve detention in the middle of the night in the bloody Forbidden Forest. He threatened to expose himself to the world, ruin whatever webs of deceit the Headmaster was weaving, if he ever so much as thought of putting Harry in that kind of danger again.

Really, that was when the relationship between himself and Snape began to change. It was years later that Snape confessed that Ray reminded Snape so much of Lily Potter in that moment, he had wondered if Ray had summoned her from the grave.

It got worse and much more serious when Harry finally confessed to him that his scar had hurt when he saw the cloaked figure in the forest and admitted to his belief that the figure was Voldemort.

Snape refused to lie to him and confirmed Harry's suspicions soon after. After that, all bets were off.

Ray watched Harry like a hawk, with special thanks to their Invisibility Cloak gifted to him and Harry their first Christmas at Hogwarts. He didn't care if all the teachers were doing the same, he wasn't going to let anything near his baby brother. Harry, however, was at that age where he wanted to prove himself to be independent. That he didn't need Ray or anyone else.

When Ray couldn't find Harry on the last day of exams, it only took him a few minutes to put the pieces together. Under the Cloak, Ray had ducked into Snape's class where students were taking their tests and pulled and yanked at Snape's arm until the professor had no other choice but to leave the room or risk exposing Ray.

However angry Snape would have been at that, Ray queered his pitch immediately with his news. Not having any time to somehow force Ray to patiently wait somewhere else, both Snape and Ray ran after his brother and his Gryffindor friends. Snape sent a Patronus to Madam Pomfrey when they found Weasley unconscious, and they caught up with Granger as she was leaving a chamber with the trick potions. Harry had taken the last of the potion needed to proceed. Snape sent Ray on a mad dash to his office to get some more, and by the time Ray was running back, Dumbledore had arrived.

They had only just made it.

The three days Harry was unconscious were the longest three days of Ray's life. He alternated between praying to any being that cared to please save his brother, to yelling and occasionally bellowing at his teachers, blaming every adult in the school for what had happened. All the while, he never left Harry's bedside.

Ray had lost any trust and almost all respect for any other adult after that. Year by year, Snape earned his position in Ray's life, but Ray didn't exactly trust anyone else. It miffed his teachers quite a lot, but he knew good and well that he had enough to hold over them with just being Ray Potter to get his way.

Ray's fourth year had been the hardest with the Chamber of Secrets opening. It surprised him that Harry was very worried for Ray since Ray spent so much time alone. It was after that year that he and Harry began their little swap days (also because it did Ray a lot of good to actually have to interact with other people). He was terrified Ray was going to get attacked and kept repeating the words of this one house elf who kept warning him - the one that got Ray and Harry into some serious trouble the summer before. That concern and his usual stubbornness set Harry on a course for another sodding adventure.

Ray believed him when Harry said he was hearing voices, agreed they had to do what they could, or they could lose their home, and absolutely blew a gasket when his complete nutter of a brother followed bloody spiders deep into the Forbidden Forest and was almost killed. Ray felt sorry for Hagrid, but still, and as Dumbledore was suspended, the only people he had to yell at for the whole ordeal was Snape and Harry himself, neither of whom were very impressed.

Then, Ray was attacked. It was past curfew for everyone else, and he was on his way to the library where Pince was waiting to help him before she locked up for the night. It was dark, the torches in the corridors making the windows like mirrors, and Ray turned a cornered; he looked up at a window when he saw movement and stared right at the most hideous yellow eyes.

When Ray woke weeks later, he was in his room, and Harry was lying beside him, obviously recently injured.

Before Ray could do more than open his mouth, Harry had said, "Now, before you start, I already got a lecture to end all lectures from Snape, and I did kinda save the whole school."

Ray was proud of his brother but also terrified because that was the second time in as many years his brother had come face-to-face with Voldemort. He had asked Snape how someone could possibly perverse a memory like that, one that could form its own conscious thought and try to become alive. Snape had only given him a significant look in answer, and thus began Ray's research that he was still continuing to this day.

Ray and Harry spent that summer rather closely, both having almost lost the other and needing to reaffirm that they were still there. It actually wasn't that bad of a summer until Aunt Marge arrived. Ray tried to calm Harry, he really did, but Harry's explosive temper toward their family won out. Ray could have taken the insults she was rubbing into him, but Harry couldn’t stand by as someone said those things to Ray. Ray got them out of there as quickly as he could, promising Harry he would protect him if anyone came after them, and telling Harry it was okay and to stop apologising.

Which was why he was on guard and had his senses sharpened when they met the Minister, and it was most curious. He wrote to Snape, who was unsurprised but annoyed that they had no idea who Sirius Black was or why they should care.

It was a stressful year for Ray, especially also being his OWLs year on top of everything else, and Ray and Harry got in quite a few arguments, mostly Harry fighting against Ray being extra cautious and protective.

Professor Lupin had taken a liking to Harry, and he soon became the first DADA professor to be trusted enough with the truth that Ray was alive. It was a truly horrifically awkward moment when they met. Remus had tears in his eyes and hugged Ray for the longest time. He was good to Harry, though, so he just let it go.

While Remus taught Harry the Patronus, Snape taught Ray as Ray's boggart was not a dementor and would need to go at it another way. Besides, Snape had been teaching him DADA since his first year anyway. The dementors affected Ray a little bit more than Harry, probably because he could remember a lot more than Harry could about their parents' death. Ray also took to teaching Harry much more advance defence spells, too, just in case, and there really wasn't much else Ray could do to ensure his safety.

By that time, Ray had met the entire Weasley clan, them having busted him and Harry out before his fourth year, Harry's second, after the Dursleys attempted to keep them prisoner. So, when he learned that the twins gave Harry a map of the school that allowed him to sneak off to Hogsmeade, he was hard pressed not to give both twits black eyes. Ray confiscated the map from Harry, much to Harry's teenaged tantrum, as well as the Firebolts they both received on Christmas.

It was on that map, however, that Ray saw a name that couldn't possibly be on there. He was using it to see if anyone was near the kitchens because he wanted to sneak down and grab a snack (Harry had no idea that Ray himself used the map often). Instead of the snack, he snuck off to show Snape.

Snape spent a week trying to prove that the map was faulty, and when he couldn't, he took the matter to Dumbledore, though thankfully, not the map itself. He gave that back to Ray, and when Dumbledore asked to see it, Ray flat out refused. That served to only amuse the Headmaster, much to Ray's own annoyance, but he did show the Headmaster his memories of what he saw. 

After that, Remus Lupin became involved, and though Ray wasn't entirely sure what Peter Pettigrew had to do with anything, the information seemed just as significant to Remus as meeting Ray was.

Unknown to him at the time, however, Harry was going through his own problems. He was devasted to learn that they had a godfather, one that turned on their parents and betrayed them. Ray was worried - he didn't know if Harry's increased anger and fights were normal for someone his age or not. Snape had reassured him that all teenagers were liable to it, but he agreed that Harry seemed… particularly self-righteous. Like the summer before, being so angry at the unfairness of Ray taking Aunt Marge's abuse just so Harry could have his permission slip for Hogsmeade signed. (Ray had never been allowed to go to Hogsmeade.) Things like that were met with a fierceness Ray rarely saw in Harry.

He had no clue how it had been driving and fuelling Harry until McGonagall had burst into his tower one night with the news that Harry and his friends were in the infirmary, that they had gotten injured by the hands of Sirius Black.

He ran as fast as he could, not giving a single, solitary fuck if anyone saw him, and had literally pulled back a fist to punch Dumbledore right in the face because Dumbledore met him at the infirmary doors and told him he couldn't go in when the sounds of two pounding footsteps came flying toward them down the corridor. It was Harry and Granger, dirty, hurt, injured, but ultimately okay. Ray hugged Harry tightly and half-pulled, half-carried his little brother into the infirmary, the entire time promising his own self-righteous revenge on Black.

Once they told him the full story and how Black was innocent, Ray simply said that his innocence didn't matter. He would be delighted to meet their godfather and show him exactly what he thought of him and the danger he put Harry in.

Ray still hadn't gotten that chance, but he had a plan for when he did. Meanwhile, when Sirius wrote to them, Ray sent off an extra letter in reply calling Black every name in the book and promising that if he ever put Harry in danger like that again, he wouldn't hesitate to make sure all visits from him were supervised and Black was on a leash. Even described the collar he'd get for him.

And if Ray preened a little when Sirius' reply was how proud he was that Ray was such a good big brother, well, no one saw it. It wasn't like it counted.

Ray hadn't been able to fully relax since Pettigrew got away. Harry was quickly getting sick of Ray watching over his shoulder again, but the kid had finally grown up enough and been through enough to recognise the seriousness of their circumstances.

Harry didn’t agree with Ray distrusting Dumbledore so much, but he knew Ray really only trusted Snape. Harry, of course, didn't trust Snape at all, but he had conceded to their Slytherin way of thinking and problem-solving. He knew Ray was working with Snape to hopefully head off any more possible attacks and was becoming a little bit like a helicopter mum himself.

The whole thing… It was why Ray was so on guard and ready at the World Cup. It was why he was so on guard and ready now, and it was why he knew Harry worried about him.

So, yes, he got his wish of sleeping through the night, but his dreams revealed just how worried he was of what was to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and let me know what you think!! I really, really want to know how Ray is working so far.


	4. The Boy with the Lightning Scars

Draco was livid.

Everyone was, really. His friends now completely believed him when he said he saw two Potters the night of the World Cup, and that he had witnessed a non-Potter Potter. It made perfect sense now, and he was furious at himself that he hadn't thought of it. He couldn't believe he actually deluded himself into thinking he had other memories of different times when Potter wasn't exactly acting like Potter, thinking he found a pattern.

It was obvious now that whatever was going on, it was Potter and his accessory-to-cheating practicing and figuring out how to beat the age limit and enter the tournament. He had no idea which older student helped him, but that had to be it.

After loudly complaining with his fellow Slytherins the same night as the Choosing and telling everyone who would listen what he saw and suspected, Draco realised that what he had witnessed thus far was an excellent clue as to figuring out how Potter cheated and possibly get Potter kicked out of the tournament.

Deciding this couldn't wait, Draco strode out of the common room uncaring of curfew and made his way to Professor Snape's office. As he got close, he paused when he heard yelling.

" -give a flying murtlap's arse what Dumbledick says!"

The door to Snape's office had flown open, and Draco jumped behind a suit of armour to watch as a handsome young man in a Slytherin uniform, whom Draco was positive he had never seen before, came stomping out into the corridor, heading Draco's way.

"Ray Potter!" Snape bellowed after him, charging out of his office and causing the young man to halt. Draco didn't think he had ever heard Snape sound that angry before. "While you are at Hogwarts, I am your guardian, and I will not have you representing Slytherin or _me_ like this! Just where the bloody hell do you think you're going?"

The young man spun around to yell back. "To Harry! Or to hex Dumbledick, either one is fine by me!"

"You will not be doing either," Snape hissed. "We have no idea who did this or how his name got in that Goblet. The last thing you should do is go prancing off throughout the castle half-cocked! Has it slipped your notice that whoever put Potter's name in is here, at Hogwarts? Do you want them finding out you're alive?"

"I don't care, and you are completely mad if you think you can keep me from my brother," the young man warned softly, sounding truly threatening.

Snape scowled, but before he could answer, someone came running to them from the other end of the corridor.

"Harry!" the Slytherin called, pushing Snape out of the wait to rush to the newcomer.

Sure enough, it was Potter burrowing the air to them. "Ray! I've been looking for you everywhere - did you hear? Did he tell you?"

Potter sounded anything but proud and excited like Draco thought he would have sounded. He instead sounded close to terrified.

The Slytherin threw an arm around Potter's shoulders, pulling him close to his side. "Yeah. We'll fix this, don't worry."

"How?" Potter questioned, sounding slightly vulnerable and bit younger than he was. Draco had never seen this side of Potter before, as though his guard was completely down. "They said it was a magical contract, that there's no way out of it."

The young man who was seething just moments ago seemed to melt around Potter, and he pulled Potter into a loose embrace. "We'll see about that," the young man said in a soft, confident, and reassuring voice. "I won't let you get hurt, Harry. I promise. You're going to be safe this year, okay?"

While he spoke, a torch on the wall was illuminating them, and Draco watched with wide eyes as he slowly took in the scars on the young man's neck and jaw. That was when it really clicked in his mind: the young man was _Ray Potter_.

"Both of you, in my office," Snape ordered, obviously having lost all patience. Ray Potter led the other Potter inside, muttering soothing things to him, and when the door shut, Draco's brain had to work hard to get his body to move.

He shot back to the Slytherin dorms, walked as calmly as he could through the common room, then barricaded himself in his room, his dormmates still out in the commons discussing the night's events.

The world be damned… Ray Potter was alive.

____________________________

After his initial shock, Draco had to stop himself three times from stomping back to the Snape's office and demand to know what was going on. Each time his better judgment kicked in before he made it too far.

Once his dormmates were asleep, Draco spent a good hour lying on his back, stewing and glaring at the ceiling trying to find a way where what he witnessed wasn't what he witnessed. By the time that line of thought was exhausted, Draco had moved to the now empty common room and was pacing, occasionally giving out the order to some elf to stroke the fire.

It was insane. It just couldn't be possible, but Draco simply didn't doubt what he saw. He knew Severus Snape, and he knew Snape wouldn't be involved in some kind of hoax, especially one involved with the Potters.

It was also infuriating because the more he thought about it, really thought about it, it made sense, in a bent around the twist sort of way.

All anyone really knew about the night the Dark Lord fell was that he had gone to personally slaughter the Potter family and had failed. No one knew why the Dark Lord wanted them dead and wanted to see to it himself, but there were several theories out there that the Dark Lord caught wind of a wizard that may grow to be more powerful than he, and he wanted to annihilate him before the wizard had time to become a threat or rival. Some speculated that the child in question would rival the Dark Lord for his own throne, becoming a new and more powerful Dark Lord.

But then the famous Harry Potter came back into the wizardry world, was sorted Gryffindor, reportedly continued to save people and service the school, and everyone now just assumed that he was the great wizard destined to defeat the Dark Lord, which he did. Everyone now expected him to someday be the leader of the Light.

That clearly wasn't the full story.

Why in the world would anyone have any reason to keep Ray Potter a secret?

Draco snorted to himself when he remembered Ray Potter calling Dumbledore 'Dumbledick'. He clearly was talking about him and didn't like the man, and who could blame him? How long had he been there, hidden away at Hogwarts? Why would Dumbledore hide him? He was a Slytherin, it seemed, so was it really Ray Potter the Dark Lord feared would grow and threaten his throne? Did Dumbledore not want the world to know, and instead was forcing the Golden Child out into the world when in reality, the possible future Dark Lord was being secreted, possibly shaped and brainwashed? Was it possible that Ray Potter was actually the one who was a Parselmouth, disguised as Harry Potter?

And about that, was it Ray Potter who was pretending to be Potter from time to time? It would make sense, in a way, especially with something like the World Cup. If he Polyjuiced himself to be his brother, then just like Draco, if someone saw him, they would just assume he was Harry Potter. And who could pull off pretending to be someone else better than one's own sibling?

But why do it at school? Well, for one, Ray Potter must get bored out of his mind. If Draco was Ray Potter, he would want to slip into a disguise and socialise every now and then. It certainly would be a defiance against Dumbledore. The teachers probably knew, too, and if Dumbledore was hiding him away, they probably felt bad enough for him to allow it.

A big part of him itched to write his father and tell him. A few years ago, he would have. His father lately, though… there would be no telling how he would receive the news. Another big part of him just wanted to tell anyone who would listen, get his friends together to plot, find a way to follow Harry Potter to his brother one day.

Thing was… what if Ray Potter was the next Dark Lord? What if he was the Heir of Slytherin who opened the Chamber of Secrets? Draco couldn't afford to burn that bridge - he had his future to think of. He already burned a bridge with the other Potter, burned it to fine grain ash.

But not this Potter.

Okay, he decided around dawn, he had to pick through any and all interactions he had with Ray Potter, disguised as Harry Potter, and determine where to go from there.

There was definitely the World Cup. Remembering Potter's slight scowl, he probably lost a few points calling Weasley and Granger names. They were his brother's friends, after all. It was times like these when he wished he had a sibling just so he could know how tight a sibling bond could be… He would have to play it safe and assume it was a very tight bond.

Which, considering how Ray Potter acted that night with Snape, Draco thought was fairly accurate.

He probably lost some points, too, that day Draco confronted him in Potions. Or, he considered, won points, especially if no one else had ever noticed before.

There was a time the year before when Draco was teasing Weasley about one thing or another, and Potter was late to the defence. What he said had been particularly witty, Draco did remember, so that could have been Ray Potter, right? So, points lost there, probably.

Really, the swiftest and most assured course of action to win Ray Potter's favour was Harry Potter himself. Clearly, Ray Potter was concerned for his brother, and, Draco had to admit, it didn't even sound like Professor Snape believed Harry Potter put his name in the Goblet.

Draco felt a small thrill strike through him at the idea of secretly helping _Ray Potter_ against the Triwizard Tournament. He also felt excited, by the time he had really gotten used to the idea and over the shock of it all, that he knew a secret this huge. The prospects and ideas were so tremendous, Draco was only a little bothered by having to do damage control from the night before.

He got to work as soon as the others were getting up, telling everyone who would listen that he did as much research as he could, and there was no way Polyjuice could fool Dumbledore's age line. He also even admitted that he was most likely wrong about what he thought he saw concerning a Potter double but played it off as though he was determined to find out how Potter did enter the tournament.

With his friends, he tried to be more careful and subtler, but Blaise saw right through him.

"Draco, mate, if you backpedal any faster, you'll end up in last week," Blaise had laughed. "Just admit that Snape said you were barking and that he better not hear any rumours."

"Fine," Draco grumbled, glad for the ready excuse.

His quick work paid off, and by lunch, the Polyjuiced Potter theory was rather low on the list of rumours.

Next, he spent the afternoon in the library, looking up magical contracts and laws, as well as laws, rules, and regulations surrounding past Triwizard Tournaments. By dinner, Draco was very confused.

Professor Vector, of the Vector-Garrison line, had always followed in her family's usual rapport with wizardry Britain's Sacred Twenty-Eight, so Draco wasn't surprised at all when she readily agreed to allow Draco to use her personal Floo to fire-call his mother, no excuse necessary.

Narcissa Malfoy was in her study at her writing desk, still dressed in her dinner gown. She was obviously surprised when she looked up to find Draco's head in her fire.

"Darling," she greeted, rushing over and kneeling on the rug in front of the fireplace. "What's wrong? Has something happened?"

"Not really," he answered. "Er… where's father?"

Narcissa gave him an understanding smile. "Out for the evening. You can talk freely."

"Good, I don't want to be crouched here all night," he complained, making her snigger. "So, have you heard who the Triwizard Tournament's champions are?"

"Of course," she sniffed. "Most manky."

"Yeah, expect… Potter didn't put his name in that Goblet."

Narcissa frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. I earwigged on him and Severus. Severus was very angry, of course, but he honestly believed Potter didn't do it," Draco half-lied carefully.

Narcissa hummed, shifting to get more comfortable on the rug. "This is distressing, my love. I almost wish you hadn't told me."

"Severus believes whoever put his name in is at Hogwarts. I can think of plenty of reasons to put his name in, but none of them are exactly in Potter's favour."

Narcissa nodded. "I must be honest, I cannot say I am surprised. You are aware certain circles have been becoming more active. Your father's mark, for example, has been becoming darker."

Draco swallowed. "Really?"

"Yes," Narcissa replied seriously. "What else can you tell me?"

"Well, I can tell you that something is seriously fu-… dodgy." Narcissa gave him a small amused smile which he ignored. "I overheard Potter say he was told he was bound to a magical contract, but… I don't see how, Mum. Firstly, Potter didn't put his name in, so his written name - in this case, standing as a written signature - not being in his own handwriting negates any binding."

"Not to mention there are several spells that could prove it," Narcissa added.

"Yeah. Secondly, the age limit in and of itself should have been written into the rules and regulations to even allow an age line to be put around the Goblet of Fire, so Potter should already be disqualified even if his name did come out of the Goblet."

Narcissa nodded, clearly agreeing. 

"Add to that, the rules should clearly state that there is only one champion per school, once again disqualifying him or giving the judges the option of disqualifying one of the Hogwarts champions. I mean, it's dodgy enough that he was picked at all, but for him not to have an out…?"

"I see what you mean," Narcissa said. "Do we have any idea who was in charge of creating and passing this year's rules and regulations?"

Draco huffed. "Yeah, which I also don't get. It's Barty Crouch."

Narcissa's frown deepened. " _The_ Barty Crouch? The one who would rather put his feet to fire than leave a t uncrossed?"

"Yep," Draco answered, popping the 'p'.

"I agree with you, Draco, something is seriously fucked up."

Draco chuckled at her vocabulary, even though he knew he wouldn't get away with saying that outright himself in front of her. "There's something else too… I don't know if I should say now, like this, but let's just leave it at: someone we thought was dead… isn't."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow. "Interesting." There was a long silence as she considered him, then she grinned. "Am I to take it you would like my help in getting Potter out of the tournament?"

Draco returned her grinned. "You could take it that between Potter and a Hufflepuff, I'd rather have a Hufflepuff champion."

Narcissa sniggered but then grew serious once more. "Draco, darling, be careful. You'll have to play this delicately. If there is someone inside of Hogwarts behind this and not just a judge who's only there periodically, they could take your actions as helping Potter."

Draco resisted the urge to bite his lip and nodded. "I know, Mum, but let's be honest… this would be helping Potter."

"No, my love, I mean helping Potter against… certain people."

"I know," he repeated, "but let's be honest, we are."

Narcissa sighed but conceded. "Stay safe and write me with any developments. I'll start making inquiries tomorrow. As for now, I assume most of the students are outraged?"

"Yeah."

"Start discussing with some of your fellows the gaping holes that have allowed this to happen."

"Will do, Mum. Thank you."

"Of course, my love."

______________________

Monday night found Ray in his small tower's commons with an angry Harry and tired looking Granger. Harry kept scowling and couldn't keep still, and Ray wasn't fairing much better.

"You two are making it really hard to concentrate," Granger eventually sighed.

"Yeah?" Ray cocked an eyebrow. "How d'you think we feel?"

"Don't start," Harry warned. Ray couldn't blame him - Ray and Harry's friends either got on spectacularly or horribly, there was rarely an in-between.

Granger gently closed her book. She and Harry were sharing the couch while Ray was slumped in an armchair, trying and failing to read the chapter in his Potions text he needed to. He watched from the corner of his eye as Granger folded her hands over her own book and turned fully toward Ray.

"I need to ask… you aren't planning something, are you?"

Ray stubbornly stayed quiet.

"Ray, Ron isn't an outlet for your anger. You should leave him be."

"Let him at him," Harry argued, sounding just as bitter and slightly hurt as he had been any time Weasley's name came up.

"No, Harry," Granger reasoned. "Ray doing anything to Ron would just make Ron madder at _you_. He'll come around."

"Yeah, when I drag him around," Ray growled softly.

Unfortunately, it didn't go unnoticed. "Ray Potter, striking out at Ron isn't going to do your brother any favours. It's just going to make things worse."

Ray slammed his book shut and just barely stopped himself from throwing it. Instead, he took a breath and tossed it on the coffee table. "That boy is a right arsemonger, and if he can't support his friends, I don't see why he needs his voice or his hair."

Granger glowered and swatted Harry's shoulder. "Hear that. I told you he was planning something."

"I haven't done anything yet," Ray said honestly. He hadn't even planned anything, he just made it sound like he had because it felt better than doing nothing.

"Leave Ron alone," Granger ordered.

Ray looked to Harry, who was steadily avoiding looking up from his parchment, so Ray sighed and said, "I make no promises."

"And no more plans," Granger insisted.

"Fine, I make no promises and no plans."

Grangers nodded sharply once, then relaxed back in her seat. "How are feeling, Harry?"

"The same as the last time you asked," Harry snapped.

"I think it's about time the two of you went off to bed," Ray announced, growing tired himself.

"I'm staying with you tonight," Harry announced.

"No," Ran said softly. "This whole thing is bad enough, if you come hiding in my tower, people will get suspicious. Besides, it's better to wade the storm, yeah?"

Harry looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Let me stay with you."

"Sorry, Harry," Ray said regretfully. "I can't even if I wanted. Dumbledick made a special appearance today to ensure you showed your face around the school, even at night."

Harry sighed and let his head fall onto the back of the couch. "Why does this keep happening?"

"Because we're Potters, brother mine. Trouble is a family friend."

"Come on, Harry," Granger said gently. "Things could be worse."

"How?" Harry jerked his head up, protesting. "Ron won't even look at me, the whole school - no, three whole schools, hate me, Ray here is on the verge of exposing himself because I keep getting into trouble, and, oh yeah, someone is trying to kill me. Again."

That last had Ray up on his feet and pacing in front of the fireplace, roughing scrubbing a hand through his hair. He didn't much care if he lost his composure in front of Harry and his best friends. Strike that, best friend. The only best friend his little brother apparently had, which just served to make Ray angrier.

"Yes," Granger replied to Harry still gently but firmly, "but Ron will come around, not everyone hates you, Ray has more control than you think, and none of us are going to let anyone hurt you."

Ray pointed an approving finger at her. "Good girl."

"How can you both sound so confident?" Harry asked.

"Because I would let the world burn before anyone touches you," Ray answered, voice deep and vibrating in his chest.

Harry quirked a smile, and Granger sighed loudly. She said, "And because I would never let _that_ happen but will loosen his leash enough to solve the problem."

At that, Harry all-out laughed, and Ray felt his shoulders relax slightly for the first time in the last couple of days. Granger sent him a knowing grin, and Ray rolled his eyes.

"Besides," Granger continued, "I know it was hard today, listening to so many people practically yell at you all the ways you shouldn't be allowed to compete and how you twisted the entire tournament, but think of it this way… Some of them had valid points, Harry, about the rules and laws. Instead of just lashing out, it sounds like people are actually looking into it. They could write to their parents, or the judges, or the Ministry, and the whole thing could be solved. Not to mention, it would just prove you _didn’t_ put your name in."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Harry said, mostly dejectedly.

Ray came to squat in front of his brother, catching his eye. "You've survived worse than this. We both have. I know sometimes dealing with immature teenagers feels worse than going up against Tom or a basilisk, but honestly, which would you choose?"

"The basilisk," Harry said immediately without missing a beat. "That doofer I could defeat."

Ray sniggered, shaking his head. "Okay, then how about… It was a major move and a significant step in doing this. Which means whoever is responsible just gave us enough clues to find them. And we will find them."

Harry nodded, though he didn't look like he believed Ray all that much.

After that, Ray tried to joke, Granger tried and failed to join, and eventually, the two Gryffindors snuck under the Cloak and out of his tower.

Ray himself was nowhere near comforted or settled. After another half hour of stewing, a tap came to his window.

He frowned. The eagle owl outside one of his commons' windows looked vaguely familiar, which made him immediately believe it wasn't sent by Sirius, the most likely person to write him. Sirius had taken to using random, one-off owls. It could be from Remus if Ray had ever seen Remus' owl, but Ray strongly doubted that as Remus' normal personal circumstances wouldn't allow him to keep a pet, even if an owl was extremely independent and half out of the 'pet' category. Hagrid would use a school or Harry's owl to write him; the same went for the staff who knew about him, those he knew via Harry, and even the Dursleys. Eagle owls were much too extravagant for a school owl.

Which meant this was either a stray owl that for some reason was seeking refuge in his tower, or someone else was reaching out.

A little unnerved but his curiosity unwilling to cave, Ray slowly made his way to the window and opened it for the creature. It flew in, landed gracefully on the back of the sofa, and upon Ray seeing the scroll tied to its leg, hooted and waited impatiently as Ray ran spells to make sure the scroll was safe. After he untied it, the owl immediately took off. Ray closed the window absentmindedly, staring at his real name as the addressee.

_Dear Ray Potter,_

_As is obvious, I prefer to get right to the point. I know who you are, that you're alive, and that your brother didn’t put his name in the Goblet of Fire._

_With that being said, I know of certain things and have access to certain information that would benefit you and Harry Potter during this trying time. As it stands, I am unfortunately unable to grant public support of any kind, but as a gesture of good faith, I offer the following:_

_Barty Crouch Sr. is a meticulous and very detailed man who rarely forgives mistakes, even his own. I have received confirmation that he was the one in charge of solidifying any and all rules and regulations within the Triwizard Tournament. I have also received confirmation that he hasn't seem himself lately. He isn't as articulate as usual with pauses in his speech. He has appeared jittery to others, and there are many more who regard his apparent recent stress-induced behaviour as even more reason to support his uncommon reliance on his assistant. Who is, coincidentally, one Percy Weasley, just months from Hogwarts, inexperienced, underqualified, underpaid, though albeit ambitious._

_Despite some evidence of Crouch not quite being up to par, the written and granted rules of the Triwizard Tournament is a thing of gold. The magical contract and details are somehow perfectly worded, signed, and approved by all participating schools and countries that allow for the almost flawless loophole forcing Harry Potter to compete. Results of not competing are Harry Potter is stripped from all magical abilities as well as any memories of anything or anyone magical._

_I have more information, if it interests you._

_Sincerely,_

_A fellow Slytherin_

_Ps, this parchment is about to catch fire_

Ray let go and jumped back just in time for the letter to keep its promise, and he had to stomp the blasted thing a few times to put the fire out. It ended as nothing but ash.

Once done, Ray's nerves were more shredded, and he was entirely conflicted.

For once, Ray felt equally concerned for both himself and Harry. Someone had found out who he was, had the bollocks to write him so bluntly, and was clearly coaxing Ray out by using Harry. Problem was, what little information already gained was tremendous in protecting Harry. If he could verify it, this new potential source could be not only useful but vital. It was a more solid lead than even the Goblet of Fire itself.

The writer blatantly said they had more information but suggested nothing as an exchange for it. Clearly, just corresponding with him was the price. That was extremely dangerous, but…

Harry was so much more important than Ray. Harry was who mattered, in the wizardry world, but also to him personally. Ray couldn't fathom why someone with any information would be writing him and not Harry unless it was for the literal leverage of knowing about him.

Ray was okay with that.

Mostly because there was very little to prove he was even real, as far as he knew - and he trusted Snape's judgment in that. If he was careful, he could even make it so any replies couldn't be led to him. Hardly anyone would even entertain the idea that he was alive, so any rumours that washed up of him doing or saying anything would be dismissed.

As far as which 'fellow Slytherin' was writing him, Ray thought he probably had a pretty good guess, especially considering how confident the prat was when he tried confronting Ray.

He wanted desperately to fetch either Harry or Snape, get their opinions, but he knew neither would react particularly well. He could almost see Snape plotting ways to hide him in a different part of the castle and demanding he would find out what Malfoy knows himself, and Harry was liable to hex Malfoy openly with the stress he was under.

Well, Ray's whole life was a secret… what was one more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm begging, please leave kudos and/or a positive comment. I'm crossing my fingers that this is something you guys will like.


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